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'THE BAGLIONI 



A TRAGEDY IN FOUR ACTS 



BY 

HENRY LANE ENO 



PRIVATELY PRINTED 

NEW YORK 

1903 



P3 3507 

V<5jo5 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

FEB 4 1903 

(N Copyright Entry 
CLASS ^' XXo. Ho 



z 7 ^ 

COPY 



AAO. NO. 



Copyright, 1903, 

BY 

HENRY LANE ENO. 



CHARACTERS 

5 Grifone or Grifonetto Baglione 

FiLiPPO Baglione Bastard Uncle of Grifonetto 

Marcantonio Baglione .... Relative to Grifonetto 

Carlo Barciglia Baglione .- -. . Relative to Grifonetto 

Jeronimo della Penna .... Relative to Grifonetto 

Astorre Baglione Cousin to Grifonetto 

GuiDO Baglione Cousin to Grifonetto 

SiMONETTO Baglione Cousin to Grifonetto 

Maraglia Squire to Marcantonio 

Pietro Vanucci ...... called il Perugino 

Raffaello Santi 

Demetrius an Alexandrine Philosopher 

Atalanta Baglione Grifotietto's Mother 

Zenobia Sforza Grifonetto's Wife 

Lavinia Colonna Astorre' s Wife 

Students, Citizens, Nobles, Ladies, Peasants, Bravi, Revellers, 
Gvxxrds, etc., etc. 

3 



THE BAGLIONT 



ACT I. 



Scene. The Piazza; Perugia. — In the backgrmind to the left 
the Palazzo Communale. — Centre bnckground, Great Fountain. — 
To the right in perspective, fa<;ade of the Diiomo of San Lorenzo. — - 
Time, early morning before dawn, Angu.^t, 1500 A.D. — Starlight. 

The rising curtain discloses the square silent and emptij. — Bells 
chime hour. 

Enter troop of late revellers with lanterns an ' torches who pass 
at back of stage and exeunt. 

Enter Zenobia and Marcantonio. Both cloaked and hooded 

Marc. Once more our long sweet night has come to end. 
Would I could fix the inevitable stars, 
And stay the morning's coming; hush the dawn 
To sleep again beneath the hills. 

Zen. And I 

Would stretch the pitying veil of darkness o'er 
The world forever, could it always hide 
A rush of burning hours like these last 

Whose perfume still enwraps me lovingly. [Pause 

Yet would to God I'd never set my eyes 
Upon thee, Marcantonio! Never then 
Would I have known this maddened stolen joy; 
But never would I feel the agony 
Of vain implacable remorse. My cloak 
About me, close; the morning chills me. See 
That cold-eyed star, it spies upon us here! 
Were those not steps? Hark! No! I must be gone. 
Remember Grifonetto comes to-day. 

Marc. Zenobia! As if I could forget. 
But when again? 

5 



6 ' THE BAGLIONI 



Zen. No more. This is the last! 

Marc. You mean that I shall never kiss your eyes 
To sleep again — 

Zen. No! 

Marc. Never feel your lips — 

Zen. No! 

Marc. Never hold you in my arms? 

Zen. No, no! 

This is the very last. Hear me! Hear me well. 
I love my Grifonetto. When he comes 
The sun of happiness will glance upon 
His helm; and when I look into his eyes 
I shall forget thee, Marcantonio 
Then will these nights but seem as evil birds 
Obscuring with their sombre flight the light 
Of my real love. Yet do I love you too, 
Antonio. How, I know not; but I do. 
Perhaps my soul is double — good and bad — 
And all my evil self cries out aloud 
For your hot kisses. Take me in your arms 
Again. I must go now. The very stones 
And battlements reproach me. O! my love, 
The memory of to-night will linger on 
To crimson with its radiant afterglow 
All dark and lonelj^ days. 

Marc. This cannot be! 

You cry out love and yet would leave me now 
In this same breath. I too have loved him much, 
Your Grifonetto, yet I stake my life, 
His friendship, hopes of greatness, all my past. 
And all my future on one moment's hold 
Of our affection. 

Zen. Yes, I know, I know! 

But it is too hard to live twice like this, 
To snatch and give two real affections. 
And cheat the Fates by sucking two lives dry. 
It kills me. 

Marc. Once again. Come once again. 

I swear I'll not ask more, one more farewell 



THE BAGLIONI 



And then oblivion. You'll promise this? 
Then, when Astorre's wedding feast is done, 
I'll sell my sword to Florence. 

Zen. Yes, go 

And I will promise. 

Marc. Swear to me you'll come. 

That once at least the light of my life's love 
Shall flame again before the darkness shuts 
Me out forever! 

[Sound of approaching Guard. 

Zen. Yes! Here comes the guard. 

[Exit Zenobia quickly. 
[Marcantonio draivs info shadorv as guard passes by. 

Marc. Good! She is safe. They've gone the other way. 
Here then's the end. It seems impossible 
That these same stars shall look but once again 
Upon our loves, that these same sheltering walls 
Shall echo soon no more our whisperings. 
Ah silent square! How many treacheries 
Have you not overheard; what secret vows 
Of guilty lovers whose impassioned steps 
Have pressed hot on your frozen cheeks; what tears 
Have fallen on unsympathetic stones; 
How often has the criminal been dragged 
Across your sunny face to judgment seat! 
Yet never has your sightless gaze 
Proved more discretion to the eager stars, 
Nor e'er your dumbness been a better friend. 

[Exit Marcantonio. 

By this time morning has begun and the stage is gradually 
growing lighter. 

Enter and exeunt a Peasant boy driving sheep to market, playing 
on his flute; more peasants with produce, etc., also citizens with 
garlands and decorated hangings, banners bearing the Red Griffin 
of Perugia, etc., etc. Enter more citizens greeting each other. 

1st Cit. By the Mass! 'Tis a glorious day for Astorre to 
lead home his bride. 



THE BAGLIONI 



2d at. Aye, and men say that Lavinia Colonna is as fair 
as this new morning 

1st Cit. So well may she be, and still be no ill mate for our 
Astorre. 

3d Cit. Our Astorre, forsooth! Would he were the devil's! 
Never have I seen such a brood as these Baglioni. And now they 
must needs bring home another woman for fresh tyrant spawn ! 

1st Cit. Hush, man! The dungeon jr awns for thy seditious 
carcass. 

2d Cit. Come! To work! The whole town's to be adorned. 
Garlands waving over the streets, banners from the towers, and 
these hangings from the balconies. Perugia must not be 
ashamed to-day. She needs her bravest show, for there be 
foreigners a-plenty, Siennese and Florentines. 

2d Cit. Aj'e, and Colonna and Orsini from Rome! 

Sd Cit. When did not our foolish folk love best of all a sight 
and a procession? As if the saints did not keep us all busy, 
without spending good hours truckling to the nobles. 

1st Cit. A plague on thee ! Cannot thy sour face relax once 
in a month? 

2d Cit. Yet 'tis true, alas, that ever since the Oddi were 
banished, the city has been ground down more day by day. 

3d Cit. Aye, and the pranks of that young scapegrace, 
Grifonetto. (Shepherd, who has re-entered, plays a lively air on 
his flute.) Stop thy foolish piping, or I'll stop up thy throat. 
(Advances threateningly to shepherd, ivho dances away piping 
merrily. Croivd laughs.) 

1st Cit. Come, come! My grandparents once told me long 
ago that you were young yourself before the nobles rose to 
power. 

[Citize7is laugh again. 

3d Cit. Laugh on, but when one of these fine blades runs 
off with thy daughter, or robs thy hard-earned gains, with a 
prick of the rapier in thy fat sides, the laugh will be the other 
way. 

[Exit 3d Citizen muttering angrily. 

1st Cit. And yet our friend has much of right in what he 
says. These handsome Baglioni of ours, God knows, are a 
most rapacious breed. 



THE BAGLIONI 



2d at. Hark! Are those not horns? 

[Hunting-horns without. 

1st at. Aye, 'tis Grifonetto returning. I marvel that the 
Lady Zenobia is not awake betimes to meet her master; they 
say that they're a loving couple, and Grifonetto, for all his 
pranks, is after all a fair and noble lord. 

[Hunting-horns without. It is noiv broad daylight. 
Enter Filippo, Carlo, and Jeronimo in riding costume. 

Car. It seems we are the first. 

Jer. Ask these good men. 

Car. (to Citizens). Have any seen my lord Grifone here? 

Ist at. We have just come upon the square. No one 
Was here before us. 

Jer. Then have we outrun him. 

Car. Already can I feel the ring of crowns 
Within my purse. 

Jer. At least he pays his debts. 

Fil. (who has been standing apart watching abstractedly 
the citizens depart, all of ivhom have now left the stage). 
Aye, he will pay. But will he play? 

Car. What's that? 

Fil. Your little minds are full of little crowns. 
But if you will give over children's things 
I'll give 5^ou men and states to gamble with. 

Jer. What's in the wind? 

Car. There's something new at last? 

Fil Just this. If we can drag Grifone in — 

Car. Why not persuade him? You've a ready tongue. 

Fil. Yet I have wasted more good rhetoric 
And brilliant argument upon that youth — - 
He greeted every word with mockery. 
And then refused point blank to listen more. 

Jer. (sarcastically). Yes, try your eloquence again. 

Car. Well then? 

Fil. But I have something better than mere wit. 
I have a hold to twist him to our way 
In spite of all his pride and loyalty. 

Car. Out with it. 

Fil. Two short summer days ago 



10 ■ THE BAGLIONI 



I crossed this square before the earUest dawn 
In haste to join you on the hunt. You both, 
With Grifonetto, (you remember well) 
Had gone already when the night was young. 
Not heeding much my steps I well nigh ran 
Upon a woman muffled to the eyes. 
She sped into the arcade yonder. 

Car. And— 

Jer. You sped on after her as usual. 

Fil. I did not. She had screamed. 

Car. O noble knight! 

Fil. I knew her voice. It was Zenobia! 

Car. Now, by the gods; then it is really true! 

Jer. So that was why our Marcantonio 
Cared nothing for the hunt, was tired of boars. 
And spears, and horses, weary of the horns 
Whose very braying bruised his gentle ears. 
But never would Grifone credit it. 

Fil. Believe me? No! But not a word of this 
Must flutter out. We know that it is so; 
That is sufficient. Time will do the rest. 
Slow poison of suspicion gently poured 
Into unwilling ears, increasing hints, 
Sly irmuendoes, then, the day being ripe 
And fortune favouring, the clinching proofs — • 
And he is ours. But look you well, my friends, 
That your own parts are not too overdone. 

[Hunting-horns without. 

Car. There sound his horns. 

Fil. Remember, not too fast! 

[More horns. 
Enter Grifonetto {with riding-whip). 
Lost! lost! My hundred golden crowns are gone 
To feed you vultures. Yet how I did ride! 
The sparks from off our hoofs did shame the stars. 
The dawn's swift shafts scarce crept upon my pace, 
And when the morning caught me up at last 
I fled before my shadow like the wind. 
You see I cast no shadow. It still rides 



THE BAGLIONI. H 



Alone, fast following outside the gates. 

Car. And yet we've won! 

Grif. In truth I felt ashamed 

At your poor empty purses, so I went 
Three times about the walls for exercise — 
And thus you all slipped in. 

Jer. Gods! Can he boast? 

Grif. No, 'tis the very truth! But here's your gold! 

[Tosses purse. 
Two days have gone and my Zenobia 
Awaits her lover. 

[Others exchange glances. 

Fil. Nay, first politics, 

Then love. We've serious matters here for you. 

Grif. Not these same foolish plans I've heard before? 

Fil. They're neither foolish, nor have you well heard. 

Grif. Then I'll not listen to such villainy! 

Fil. Tut, Grifonetto! Save those mighty words 
For some more fitting time. We plan revolt, 
Not treachery. Too long have many kings 
Ruled over this one state. Too many lords 
From one great clan have trampled on the rights 
Of our citizens and drenched these streets 
With bloody brawls and family quarrelling. 

Jer. For we in truth desire that light of peace 
Which has so long forgot to shine upon 
Our strife-bedarkened city. 

Car. Hearken, cousin ! 

Long have we thought of this. Keep down your haste, 
And when Filippo here has done, why then 
Release your steeds of wrath. But well I know 
When you have heard the whole, their fiery heads 
Will need no holding rein. 

Fil, May I proceed? 

Grif. Proceed! I will reserve my mind. 

Car. Good so. 

Fil. In brief the plot is this. To rid the town 
Of manny warring masters, and to place 
In lieu of them one ruler paramount. 



12 -- THE BAGLIONI 



The citizens, as you well know, esteem 

Thy kin a pestilential brood. With joy 

And acclamations they will welcome here 

A wise and kindly lord, who would protect 

The state from strife within and foes without. 

Once seize the Baglioni (all but thou 

And Carlo here), swift banish them beyond 

The confines of dependent states, and then, 

The wolves all gone, a single Griffin Lord 

Would rule with haughty crest and iron claws. 

The state would prosper fast. See how our friend, 

Fair Florence, blossomed when the Medici 

Sat on her ducal throne. So would we bloom 

And flower over the land of Italy, 

Till Rome herself should tremble on her hills, 

And Peter's mighty chair should wait on Umbria. 

Grif. Well spoken, good Filippo! True, your plot 
Walks masquerading in a brave disguise, 
Crowned with the gentle wreath of peace, and clad 
In glowing garments of prosperity. 
But still, methinks, I see a rebel's heart 
Bene?th this fine array. But tell me more. 
Who shall the GrifRn be to sit so high 
Above the crowd? Who is this Emperor? 
This little Ca?sar of the hills? 

Fil. Yourself ! 

Je7-. Thou art the man! 

Car. ■ A crown lies at your feet! 

Grif. Ah! Now I know that you are traitors all. 
So! You would tempt me with a pretty crown? 
As if I were a babe and thou the nurse, 
Filippo, saying: "Come and see the shine 
Of dancing sunlight. Stretch thy hands and grasp 
The glittering thing." So yearned I for the moon 
When I was scarcel}^ weaned. 

Fil. Fine biting words. 

My Grifonetto! But 'tis not the show 
Alone, the empty symbol of a power 
Unreal we offer you. Away with crowns. 



THE BAGLIONI ' 13 



Or even laurel leaves! lleinain a knight, 

A simple man at arms ; no foolish terms. 

Plain Grifonetto for the mighty lord 

Of our new Umbrian state; but at his name 

Each neighbouring duke, count, prince — aye, every one^ 

Shall rock upon his tawdry little throne. 

Grif. Words, words, Filippo, traitorous lies each one. 
The stars show no such future state. Besides, 
Here's one Baglione has his honour left. 
Go spread your crowiis and gleaming villainies 
Before some better purchaser. Your price 
Is not quite high enough to tempt 
Poor Grifonetto. Have you not yet more? 
Something still more alluring in your wares? 
Dictatorship, perhaps. Pontifical 
Tiaras, or the Emperor's Throne? Come, come! 
My faith is still for sale — a slight advance 
And there you have me fast. 

Fil. It pleases you 

To jest. 

Car. Reserve thy wit for other times 
More fitting. This is solemn as the Mass. 

Grif. Aye, by the Mass it is; and by the Mass 
And every holy thing you can profane 
By thinking on, I'll speak you solemn words. 
Had I but known that these companions here — 
My kinsman, Carlo; fair Jeronimo, my friend; 
Filippo, uncle by the blood — In truth 
If I had ever dreamt that they were false, 
I would have slain them all this very night, 
Before they could pollute my city's streets 
With their black-hearted shadows. Treachery! 
That thing which grows like a foul thundercloud 
To burst at last in bloody rain! That thing 
Which fires men's minds with madness; stifles love 
And honour; turns us into human beasts. 
Go! leave me, lest I make you pay a price 
In bitter coin for tempting me. Away! 
Take off your crowns to other marts. Away ! 



14 ' THE BAGLIONI 



And if I catch a sound of this again, 
Though hghtest whisper on the morning air. 
Not all our friendship in the past will save 
Your bodies from the headsman, or your souls 
From hell ! 

Fil. Your words shall be obeyed, my lord. (Sarcastically.) 

Bow, slaves! [The three rnen bow mockingly. 

(Three together mockingly.) 

Farewell, my righteous lord, we'll try 
Again ! 

Jer. Come! Leave him. He is dangerous. 

Car. Mind thee, 

Good cousin, treachery lurks nearer home. 
Look for it there — this thundercloud — blood — -rain. 

Jer. My friend, learn well that ill word treacher}'-. 
It sometimes is domesticated. 
We three are bachelors It never rains ! 

Grif. Bah! You are jealous of my happiness. 

Car. Who would not be — 

Jer. With such a wife as yours ! 

Fil. The city of Perugia entire 
Is jealous of Zenobia's husband. 

Grif. (sarcastically). The courtier, not the conspirator, 
Speaks now. It more becomes you. 

Fil. So men say. 

Grif. And yet for once the courtier speaks truth. 
Where lives another like Zenobia? 
Who else is fairer than the morningtide 
When dawn speeds lightfoot on the summer hills? 

Car. (cynically). And who is so unworthy as yourself 
Of all this blessedness? 

Grif. Indeed who is? 

I love my life, which after all is said 
Lasts but a moment long ! We love red wine ; 
Eh, Carlo? And the dice, and others' wives! 
And when night comes, a forage and a song. 
But then I love Zenobia so much more. 
Alone she reigns the nnstress of my soul. 

Fil. And we three love Perugia the best 



THE BAGLIONI 15 



Of all our mistresses. 

Grif. I love her too. 

Ah, my Perugia! What evil fates 
Hunt fast and hard. Thou art so strong, so fair, 
Yet ever hangs the blackened veil of strife 
Between thee and the peaceful sun. Each year 
This wretched square runs with thy children's blood, 
The daylight shines on deadly brawls, the stars' 
Thin beam falls on the murderer's blade. And now 
You teU me I can win for thee the prize 
Of peace and freedom, under iron rule 
Firm wielded by this master hand. You're wrong. 
The means are everything, the end is naught. 
Nor ever yet has foul play wrought fair deed. 
Peace bought of treachery is worse than war. 
Go visions; for, like all this rolling world, 
You are but dreams. Beyond stands out the law 
Immutable. God help my keeping it! 

[Grifonetto turns and walks slowly to the fountain 
rail, on which he leans absorbed in thought. 

Car. (yawning). Come, let's be off. Here come the students. 

Jer. Aye. 

Grifone's solemn as a morning owl. 

Fil. I never saw him so sedate. Greetings! (To Perugino, 
who has entered with students, among them Raffaello Santi.) 

[[Exeunt Filippo, Carlo, and Jeronimo, exchanging 
greetings with Perugino and students as they pass. 

Raj. Who is yon thoughtful knight? 

Per. Know'st thou him not? 

'Tis Grifonetto, noblest of our young 
Perugians. 

Grif. {Turning suddenly, awakening from his reverie.) 
Who spoke aloud my name? 
'Tis Maestro Perugino, by my soul! 
And these his faithful band of neophytes. 
How go the frescoes, master? Does your brush 
Still lightly sketch things secular, or does 
It spread abroad the immortal pictured fame 
Of our old town in work for Holy Church — , 



16 ■ THE BAG LION I 



Sweet saints and meritorious martyrdoms? 

Per. Nay, Grifonetto, I am still upon 
The paintings of the Cambio; helped much 
By my young friends here. 

Grif. Who is this young man 

In scarlet cap — the one with golden hair? 

Per. He's my best pupil — Raffaello. 

Grif. ' Ah! 

I've heard of him. 

Per. Thou'lt hear of him again, 

And still again. The years will not be long 
[As Perugino converses, other students enter Palazzo Communale. 
When Italy will ring with him. Mark well: 
Of all the youths my skill has ever taught 
He is the ablest. Such fidelity ! 
Such eye for color! Such sweet grace of line! 
In future times 'twill be the proudest boast 
Of Perugino that this gifted youth 
Learned from his hand. 

Raf. I pray you not so much! 

My shame will overcome me. 

Grif. A truce, man! 

Such vast embarrassment of praise would turn 
The head of many a dainty courtier. 
But why should learned lips converse of me? 

[Turning and laying his hand on Perugino's shoulder. 
What said my master, there, of all the arts? 
Ah! I can hear him: "See that youthful knight, 
'Tis Grifonetto, wild young cub, who roams 
The byways after dark; a ready smile 
For every pretty wench, a ready blade 
To prod the burgher's fattening ribs, an eye 
Too keen for quarrels, too fond taste for wine. 
A knee that bends to no man, and not much 
To God. A falcon of his fiery brood! 
Beware of him when once the sun has based 
His order-loving beams behind the hills, 
And faint light-minded torches cast their rays 
To lead home nobles, revellers, and thieves! 



THE BAGLIONI 17 



He is a Baglione, trust him not. 

Draw back and let the condottierri pass! 

Draw back and give the robber lords good room! 

The roisterers care no more for your j^oung flesh 

Than eagles mind the hare. No! not a breath. 

A jostle and the swords are out. A word, 

And one more corpse blocks up the narrow lane! 

The merry revellers stream on their way, 

While you lie there till dogs or watchmen come 

To carry off your limbs to sepulture. 

Then have a care, whene'er with torch and plume 

The Baglioni walk beneath the stars, 

Seek out the friendly shade till they have gone! 

Is not this true, friend Raffaello, say? 

Was it not thus good Master Perugino spoke? 

Raf. Not so, my lord; he said not thus indeed, 
But to the contrary. That you were brave 
And fair, most knightly of the nobles here 
In his Perugia. 

Grif. Best of painters all, 

I crave your pardon. These are heaping coals 
Upon a foolish head. Yet you are wrong. 
Astorre's fairer, Simonetto's heart 
Is twice as brave, and Marcantonio's soul 
Is fuller far of chivalry than mine. 

Per. Nay, Grifonetto, I meant what I said. 
Brave are the Baglioni, every one, 
But you are kindlier than them all. 

Grif. Hush, friend, 

Lest I grow angry. Yet, whate'er of grace 
Or charity there may be in my heart 
I owe not to myself. No honour here 
Is due for any Ornament of mind, 
But to my mistress, fair Zenobia, 
Whose life is decorated with all gifts 
Of virtue and of beauty; whose sweet soul 
Has so perchance shed down its light upon' 
My poor unworthy love, that I have caught 
Some echo of its radiance. For her 



18 ' THE BAGLIONI 



Pour out your generosity of praise, 

My Perugino; her from whom e'en now 

I have delayed my coming far too Iqng! •-■ - * 

Per. We, also, should be well upon our way. 
Farewell! My greeting to Zenobia, 
Your noble lady 

Raf. And may I, my lord, 

Dare also send a greeting? 

[Perugino and Raffaicllo start up steps of Palazzo 
Comnninale. 
Grif. That thou may'st. 

It shall be given. 

Enter messenger in the livery of the Baglioni. 
Who's this of my house? 
Mes. My lord Grifone, messengers do scour 
The town and scan the gates to search for you, 
Sent by my lady. 

Grif. What! She is not ill? 

Mes. Not so, my lord, but anxious for the sight 
Of your return, for which she has now watched 
Since earliest dawn. 

Grif. Go thou back to her 

And say I ride upon a storm of haste. 

[Tosses gold piece to messenger, who exits in haste. 
Here's guerdon for thy luck in finding me. 
See, Perugino! Does the world hold aught 
So true and kind as my Zenobia? 
Nay, stay me not. The swift breath of the morn 
Blows not half fast enough to waft me there, 
Were I a pinioned hawk, instead of this 
Poor leaden-footed creature man. Farewell! 

[Exit Grifonetto. 
Per. {At head of steps of Palazzo with Rapfaello.) 
Now mark thee, Raffaello, he is doomed. 
The gods love Grifonetto far too well ! 

[Exeunt {by door into Palazzo Communale) Peru- 
gino and Raffaello with these last words, leav- 
ing the stage'empty. 
Bells chime the morning hour. 
CURTAIN. 



THE BAGLIONI 19 



ACT II. 

Scene. Great Reception Hall in Atalanta's Palazzo. — Stone 
walls hung with tapestry; ceiling with painted wooden beams; 
large velvet-covered chairs; tall bronze candelabra in corners etc. — 
Doors right. — Heavy curtains drawn left. — Assembled company 
in festive apparel. — Time, evening of same day. 

As curtain rises murmur of voices in conversation is heard. — 
Present, Astorre, Guido, Grifonetto, Simonetto, Filippo, 
Carlo, Jeronimo, Atalanta, Lavinia, Zenobia, and others. — 
Men in indoor dress, unarmed. 

Demetrius, in a long fur-trimmed robe, seated, surrounded by 
a group of attentive young men and women. 
Enter Marcantonio. 

Marc. Am I too late again? Is that the one — 
The wise man from the Isles of Greece — who's said 
To know his Plato, Aristotle, all 
Our new philosophy as well, indeed, 
As condottierri know their swords? 

Ata. 'Tis true. 

And you shall hear his words which, fair and wise, 
Flow in his speech with limpid streams that clothe 
The subtlest thought in beauty, yet hides naught 
Of the intent. 

La. And he can decorate 

Some solemn theme with such a wealth of grace 
That, like the temples in his native land, 
All men will marvel at its outward show, 
While deep and holy things are held within. 

Car. Now by the gods, what wisdom from fair lips ! 
Must nature, in this newest age of ours. 
Strew all her lavish favours on our wives 
And mothers? Beauty and devotion cling 
To them already. Now must learning too 
Be snatched away from us? 

Ata. Not while we have 

So great a champion as our new sage. Come! [To Marcantonio. 
Thy bow to wisdom first 1 



30 THE BAGLIONI 



Marc. Wc welcome you, 

Demetrius. Now that the kindly star 
Of learning rises ever higher here, 
And sheds abroad a widening beam 
Of gentle light upon our land, we greet 
With joy all scholars; be they strange 
Or long well known. But most of all we hail 
One who can claim for birthplace that great land 
Of Greece, the foster-mother of our minds. 

Dem. There speaks the voice of learning, the kind bond 
Which joins, as in a single kin, all those 
Who know the fellowship of intellect. 
Oft has the wandering scholar heard its words 
Of welcome, but not ever since the time 
Far gone when melancholy Sappho sang 
Her odes to listening maids, and greetings fell 
From her soft lips upon the visitors 
To rocky Lesbian shores — not since those days 
Has hospitality shone with a fairer form, 
Or wisdom graced more beauty with her crown. 

Car. (To Jeronimo.) In sooth, old age has not forgot his wit! 

La. Great master, if your deep philosophy 
Can teach such winsome speech, I marvel much 
That these young warriors do not give up 
All their pursuits, and study to be wise. 

Dem. Fair damsel, when the hair is white, and when 
The rusty sword has long hung on the wall, 
Then wisdom comes with her eternal youth 
To quicken sluggish heartbeats. But the path 
Leads up a weary mountain side of years. 
Ah! once there was a time I would have scorned 
To rest when so much beauty stood close by, 
For even in our Greece the marble forms 
Which teach us of the ancient da3^s do not 
Contain the only loveliness. 

Zen. Tell us, 

I beg, about your native isles. 

Marc. Aye, tell 



THE BAGLIONl 21 



How first you came to tread the stony path 
Of learning, for at last we, too, would find 
The way. 

Dem. The road to wisdom, gentle friends, 
Leads first through doors of sorrow, like to those 
Twin ivory gates which lead to sleep and death, 
Sung by that greatest bard Virgilius. 
But know, when I was young, the Infidel 
Had ravished all our land. (E'en yet, I hear. 
He bids a bold defiance to the fleets 
Of lordly Venice.) So we all were poor 
And terror-stricken. Scarce dared venture we 
From out our mountain fastnesses. And yet 
My father was a worthy man of note, 
Much learned and wise. Oft would he tell to me 
Tales of our ancient brilliancy, when Greece 
Was torchlight for the world. This was at night, 
Beneath the steepled pines, or by the fire 
In winter-time. By day, I roamed the hills 
To guard the sheep from wolves and Saracens. 
Now, one deep noontide, when I slept, my sheep 
About me grazing in the sun, a pipe, 
Sweet shrilling on the hillside, wakened me. 
And there before me stood a stately maid, 
As beautiful as dawn. In silence, first. 
She gazed at me, and then the winged words 
Flew from her lips. "Awake, Demetrius! 
A second time Greece calls a listening world. 
Her gods are not all dead, nor all forgot 
Her poets and philosophers. Learn thou 
Of them, and carry far and wide the fire 
Of their wise burning words." Once more the plaint 
Of unseen reeds pierced the still mountain air. 
And she was gone. Then did I know, in truth, 
Athena lived again; and from that time 
My life has been one long obedience 
To her divine request. 

Atn. A noble task indeed ! 



32 THE BAGLIONI 



Dem. {rising). And now I bid you all farewell, for soon 
Comes heavy-lidded sleep to men of years. 

La. Then let us be your escort while we may! 

[A servant has entered bearing an embossed and 
gilded leathern case which Demetrius opens, dis- 
closing a large crystal goblet with elaborately chased 
ivory base and holder. 
Dem. One moment! I had near forgot the gift 
To our fair bride. It is an humble one. 
Nor gold nor precious stones have I amassed 
In my life's wanderings — only some few 
And meagre treasures of the mind. But this 
Was given me by a Moorish sorcerer 
Whom I befriended when he fled from Spain. 
'Tis said whoever drinks from it upon 
The stroke of midnight sees the secret acts 
Of enemies, the treacheries of friends, 
The true complexion of a lover's heart. 

La. (receives the goblet and places it upon the side table, where 
guests admire it). A hundred thanks. Upon the stroke of twelve 
I'll quench my thirst and prove Astorre's mind. 
Marc. A work of supererogation. 
Sim. 'Twould need no magic to assay such love. 

[Exeunt Demetrius and guests laughing and talking, 
escorted by attendants with torches to light the dark 
outer passages, leaving Filippo, who is examin- 
ing the goblet, and Carlo, who lags behind the rest. 
Fil. (half to himself). 

Suppose the midnight bells should ring upon 
Our Grifonetto drinking in this cup. 
They'd sound a bitter symphony to him. 
Car. (passing). What's that? 

Fil. (setting down goblet). Stay, here's another wedding gift. 
[Carlo returns as Filippo picks up a sealed packet. 
Car. But this is sealed! 
Fil. (breaking packet). So are the gates of heaven. 

[Extracting a small ivory plaque. 
Vanucci! by the fates! Our painter's soul 
Has quite forgot for once his golden pence. 



THE BAGLIONI 33 



Car. Perhaps he sees a future customer. 

Fil. Perhaps. It is a pretty bauble. See! 

[Showing it to Carlo. 
The two poor guilty lovers and the book, 
Fresh slipped from our immortal Dante's verse, 
Clasp'd in each other's arms. 

Car. 'Tis charming. 

Fil. Strange ! 

How like Zenobia's headdress. 

Car. True. Indeed 

He must have copied it — she wore the same 
To-night. 

Fil. {thinking). And Marcantonio, what dress wore he? 

Car. I know not; what of that? 

Fil. {eagerly). Think, think! 

Was nothing recognizable about 
His doublet, cloak, hose, anything? 

Car. You're mad ! 

Fil. Yes, if you like, but think — his doublet? 

Car. No — 

Quite usual. 

Fil. His cloak? 

Car. The same. 

Fil. His hose? 

Car. His hose? I have it: they were striped across 
In red and white like this. 

Fil. I mind it now. 

Astorre twitted him about the mode. 

Car. And Marcantonio said they came last week 
From Paris, where they were the fashion. 

Fil. And no one else had worn such yet. 

Car. Those were 

His very words. 

Fil. Quick ! Where's a pen, a knife, 

Quick, anything! 

Car. Here's my dirk. 

Fil. {Taking up painted ivory and marking it.) Scratch lines 
So. Prick my arm. A little blood to mark 
The colouring. Rub it well in — more — good! 



24 ' THE BAGLIONI 



Now have we Dante's criminals in love 
Stamped with the ver}"^ guise of our two friends 
Zenobia and Marcantonio. 

Car, What are you driving for? 

Fil. Wait, you shall see ! 

Now give the goblet, and your knife again. 
A little paring and the disk will fit. 

[Paring wory plaque until it fits the goblet, into the 
bottom of which he inserts it. 
Now the wine-flask. Fill up the crystal cup. 

[Handing the filled goblet to Carlo. 
Gaze in before you drink. What do you see? 

Car. (Taking cup and looking in astonished.) 

Deep down within the amber wine they float, 
Zenobia and Marcantonio, 
Clasped swaying in each other's arms! 

Fil Ha! ha! 

The gods play in our hands to-night. 

Car. The Devil! 

Fil. 'Tis all the same. God made the Devil 

Car. And 

The Devil made Filippo — finished work 
Of Art. 

Fil. True! Here they come. Set down the cup 

[Noise of returning guests, etc., etc. 
There, in the selfsame spot. Toss me those dice. 
We've stolen a moment more to gamble in. 

[As company enters Filippo and Carlo are dis- 
covered tossing dice. 

Ata. Inveterate gamblers! Has the mind's bright gold 
No charms for your poor souls? 

Car. He's beaten me 

Until the only gold I have is such — ■ 
Mind ducats, mental crowns, imaginings. 

Fil. {To Grifonetto.) How beautiful Zenobia is to-night! 
Her headdress so becomes her. 

Grif. Does it not? 

It is an ancient one, long handed down; 



THE BAGLIONI 35 



Some say a Sforza wore it in the days 
When Dante languished in Ravenna. 

Car. (To Marcantonio.) Ah! 

How brave our warrior grows in French array. 
Trans-Alpine fashions, fancy striped hose! 

Marc. I know you're jealous, of my finery. 

Car. (To Grifonetto.) 

See this coxcomb. How his limbs are built 
In sections like the columns on the front 
Of the Palazzo. 

Marc. Yet they look at least 

As if they would support a man, whilst yours, 
Good cousin Carlo, they were bought, methinks, 
A bargain from some hungry Jew ! 

[Some of the young men have strolled to the table and 
are drinking. 

As. (To SiMONETTo.) Your health. 

Gui. (To Grifonetto.) 

A health to the new bride. 

[They take goblets. 

Car. (coming up). Stop, cousin, stop! 

Grif. Why stop? 

Car. I would not drain that crystal cup 

For all the wealth of Venice. 

Gui. Tell us why. 

Car. Why? See you not the goblet is all carved 
With mysteries, crissed-crossed with pentagrams, 
And matters astrological? 

Grif. (holding it up to light). Aye, so. 
But what of that? 

Car. (mysteriously). It is a magic cup. 
Gaze in it and you see the future. 

Gui. Well! 

Car. The gods show nothing good or beautiful 
To those who pry into their secret thoughts. 

Fil. Perchance thou art afraid to rend the veil? 

Grif. Fear is a word was lost when I was born. 
Can I not fight the future as the past? 



26 THE BAGLIONI 



Car. (approaching Grifonetto and chanting in a low voice). 
" With swords you fight, 
The Pope wth bulls, 
But I fight with my tongue." 
Grif. What riddle's that? 

Car, Why, we three conquerors 

Should then be friends, thyself, the Pope, and I ! 
Grif. Is that aU? 

Car. Nay then, gaze within the cup. 

(Chanting.) A lady and a gentleman 
Upon a starlit square; 
And there's a third; if I were he 
I would that I were there! 
Grif. (lifting goblet) . To fair Lavinia ! May she be loved 
And happy as Zenobia and I. 

Car. (aside). Now shall he see his fate. 

[Grifonetto drinks, gazing into cup with increas- 
ing interest, then anger and alarm. 
Grif. What folly's this? 

[He dashes cup to the ground into a thousand pieces. 
Car. What's that? Has the snake bitten? 
Grif. Nay, the gods 

Are now avenged. The crystal was too pure, 
It irked me with its perfect symmetry. 

Fil. Mind him not. He is a man of pranks. 
Car. The lights are burning low. 
Fil. Farewell ! 

Car. Come on. 

Impatient Marcantonio waits for us. 
And taps upon the gaming-board. Farewell! 

[Exeunt Carlo and FrLippo laughing. 
During preceding conversation servants have been extinguishing 
festal torches and all of the guests have departed. — Grifonetto 
remains moodily gazing at the broken crystal. 

Enter Zenobia, hesitating, then approaching Grifonetto, who 
is standing with his back to the door through tohich she has entered. 
Grif. (to himself). 

Bah! juggling fool's tricks; and yet, and yet! 
Zen. My lord ! What mood is this that clasps your brow 



THE BAGLIONI 27 



With melancholy diadem? 

Grif. (still half to himself). What mood? 
A humour of sick mockery. A dream 
Which strides mj^ spirit with its shrivelled limbs! 

Zen. My lord ! I never saw you in this vein. 
Surely you once were wont to open up 
The secret springs of grief and pour your woes 
Into a willing ear. I pray you tell 
The reason of this sorrow. 

Grif. Can you not 

By any means guess the complexion of 't? 

[Seizing her shoulders. 
Look in my face. Is there no deep-set fire 
Within my pupils that reflects a flame 
Of your own mind? Is there no creasing down 
Of brows that indicate a shrinking heart? 
Is there no reading of those signs which mark 
The soul struck cold? 

Zen. I see as much indeed, 

Therefore I turned me back to comfort you. 

Grif. Aye. Comfort me thou shalt. See where the glass 
Lies shattered on the stone. Gather a piece 
And read the sign in it. 

Zen. What can you mean? 

Your words are riddles, your looks foreign gleams 
Which hint at nameless things. 

Grif. Nameless they are, 

And nameless shalt thou be if they are true. 

[Picking up a glass fragment and gazing info it. 
Come, we'll read together. This fragment here 
Shines just as brightly as the perfect globe; 
Reflects as straight, is smooth and jewelled as much. 
Yet it is worthless and the edges cut. 

Zen. I know not what insinuation's here. 
My lord ; but if it has some touch with me. 
Or if there's aiight that's sharp or broken off 
In my afTection, then I'd rather give 
My willing throat to the new cutting edge 
And turn this false white diamond to a ruby 



28 THE BAGLIONI 



Made true by my red blood — true as my love 
For thee, true as my life is worthless quite 
Without thy trust in me. 

Grif. Nay, not so fast. 

The glass is but the frame. Look in its soul. 

[Holdmg up the glass so that the light shines through it. 
Are there no stains to mar its purity? 
No lustful colours in the heart of it? 
See! Ther'es an amethyst, a rainbow gleam, 
Red, blue a harlequin of tints. 

Zen. But look ! 

[Taking fragment. 
These manifold dyes lie not within the glass 
Save where the flickering light shines through. Now hold 
The crystal here, in the deep shade. Where then 
Are fled the hues? Put out the mimic sun, 
The rainbow melts into the darkening night 
Which greets the gaze, pale and immaculate. 
So frowns the world, suspect, in painted dress 
Seen with distorted eyes of jealousy. 

Grif. Thus would I fain believe. 

Zen. Why not believe? 

I know not what suspicion has crept in 
Unheralded between our faith and love, 
Nor what unholy visions you have seen 
In that poor shattered cup; but this I know, 
That never have I in a vagrant glance 
Or by a fl5ang word given cause for this. 
Who's the informant? Carlo, soaked in wine? 
Jeronirao, the gambler? Filippo? 
No one can lie like our Filippo. Ah! 
Can you not see these men are treachery 
Incarnate— plotting, always plotting more 
And still more? Art thou then the gentle dove 
For their thin nets? I smell their hands in this! 
Sappers of state and poisoners of love! 
For you I would kneel in the dust to beg 
Forgiveness for an uncommitted sin. 
But that these swashing revellers — Cowards! 



THE BAGLIONI 29 



Let them accuse me here before my face. 
Here I await them; and thou, sword in hand, 
To mete out justice— death to me in guilt, 
But, being innocent, death to the three. 
So should their accusations stand the test 
And falsely drown in their own punishment. 
I am a Baglione as your wife. 
But Sforza runs the red blood in my veins 
And here Zenobia Sforza cries aloud 
For justice and extenuation. 

Grif. Can flashing temper, or the resonance 
Of words, or mute appeal of loveliness 
Heal up the canker? Or can all thy grace 
Unite again these shattered glittering things 
Into original perfection? 

Zen. No! 

But can the infusion of those subtle souls, 
A gambler, drunkard, and a liar, rock 
The noble edifice of our affection down — 
Crumble it into fragments slight as those, 

[Crunching the broken pieces with her foot. 
And wreck it as the storm blows down the leaves, 
By one small drop of instilled jealousy? 
Who then destroyed the smoothness of our lives? 
Was it FiUppo? 

Grif. Nay, 'twas not Filippo. 

Zen. Then Carlo? 

Grif. Not Carlo. 

Zen. Jeronimo? 

Grif. Nor yet Jeronimo. 

Zen. Who then? Ah, God! 

Is this a lightsome charge to found on air, 
A little thing to fling at wifely fame — 
Adultery— is it adultery? 
If not, 'tis nothing! 

Grif. Shall I charge it, then? 

Zen. Aye, charge it, if thou canst, with all the proofs. 
Or, if there are no proofs, why then suspect 
Me on the slightest talk of slanderers! 



30 THE BAGLIONI 



What do men say? (Listening.) Hark! these whisperings 

Upon the night. 'Tis rumour, thousand-tongued, 

That leaps along like fire from ear to ear ! 

Come, listen to it well. Does one word breathe 

Of faithlessness? Or even if within 

The abyss of your secret mind there be 

But one small spark of reason to light the torch 

Of jealousy, then kill me and be done! 

Grif. Would God the torch were quenched. Ahi, tell me more, 
Persuade me more. Convince me that the vision 
I saw just now within that foolish globe 
Was but a picture of my high-wrought thoughts. 
Like them a falsest fantasy ! Weigh down 
The scales. I am attorney for my love 
Against my vigilance. 

Zen. Then let me plead, 

I ask but justice. Shall I stand condemned 
Upon a hint from those who seek to use 
You as a tool for their conspiracies; 
Upon the witchery of a tired brain 

That weaves sham visions? ShaU you match these trifles 
Against the love of years? The tenderness 
Which lingers on your slightest word, which wraps 
You, even when you feel it least, with care 
And constant sympathy? Shall you let slip 
My tried affection, like a worn-out cloak, 
Upon the slurs of a bystander? Ah! 
Have you forgot so soon the time when Love 
Lit all our nights and days with flaring torch, 
And Life marched garlanded with song? 

Grif. Forgot? 

Can angels forget their home in paradise? 

Zen. The gates are open, who can keep you out? 
Say that to-night has never been. Say once 
That these suspicions were but mockeries, 
Dreams, nothing. 

Grif. I believe I They're nothing else. 

'Tis nothing, nothing but a mania, 
Frenzy, a tissue of delirious lies 



THE BAGLIONI 31 



Enslaving my poor wits — a crystal vision 
Deep conjured from the gloom. See, see, I cast 
Them off, these black-veiled dreams, and wake again 
Into the day of confidence. 

[He goes to curtain and pulls it open, letting in a band 
of moonlight. 

Shine, stars! 
Blow, scented breezes ! Look how the red moon 
Drifts down the deep-eyed night. Nay, not the moon, 
It is the golden-throned smi who flaunts 
His heavenly blazonry upon the dark 1 

Zen. Yes ! Yes ! The miracle of midnight dawn 
That only you and I can see. My lord, 
How could you doubt me? 

Crrif. Now my doubts have gone; 

Gone like the sea-gulls north upon the Spring. 

Zen. But when the Winter comes again? 

Grif. Nay, they have gone forever. Naught shall come 
To separate us now. 

Ze7i. You are so sure? 

Grif. Aye, till that day when heavy-fingered Death 
Shall lay his grizzly hand upon our hearts. 
Let him alone become our severer ! 

[Zenobia shivers. 
You shiver, and your hands are cold! 

Zen. Nothing ! 

The wind is rising. Come. Who's there? 

[Enter Filippo softly. 

Fil. Naught more alarming than your good Filippo! 
Ah! What a model pair! These long years wed 
And still the honeymoon ! 

Grif. Leave us, good uncle. 

Forget that you were here! 

Fil. Would that I might! 

But I have business of much moment. 

Grif. Bah! 

Zen. Cabals, intrigues. Are days not long enough 
But that the pure nights must be venomed too? 

Fil. Forgive me; but the balance-wheel of Fate 



32 THE BAGLIONI 



Swings on my errand! 

Zen. (cynically). Give it then a twist 
For me! I'll leave you, gentlemen. Farewell! 

Grif. (kissing her hand). 

Farewell, I'll not be long! 

Fil. Farewell, and forgive ! 

[Exit Zenobia. 

Grif. (sternly). 

What now? Is't not enough by ill-timed lies 
To poison my mind against the innocent. 
To plot a breach between my wife and me? 
Thou hast the look of a lean and hungry wolf. 
Go prowl about alone and leave a space 
For honest men to breathe in! What is it? 

Fil. Not much. A pair of horns upon thy cap. 
That's all! 

Grif. (seizing him). Thou liest. Prove it, or, by the mass, 
I'll murder thee! I have enough of this! 
Insinuations, innuendoes, hints! 
From Carlo first and now from thee. Prove it! 
Prove it, I say, before the lightning strikes! 

Fil. Then listen, fool! And take your fingers off! 
Zenobia has gone to wait for you? 

Grif. Thou saw'st her go. 

Fil. Aye, so did I, in truth. 

But I saw more than that. 

Grif. Indeed! what then? 

Fil. I caught a questioning glance that showed her thought. 
I'd stake my life that she has gone to warn 
Her Marcantonio. 

Grif. Good wager ! 

You shall keep it. The proofs or else your life! 

Fil. Behind the arras here there is a door 
Pushed by a secret spring. The stairs descend 
Into that next hall, as you know. 
If she has gone to Marcantonio's chamber 
She must cross by the hall. No other way 
Is possible. Does she know of the door? 

Grif. No, nor I till to-night. 



THE BAGLIONI 33 



-^'^- Then open it. 

Grif. Wh}' not? Yon will see nothing but a hall, 
An empty hall; your own foul visions, 
Perchance, also, the dream of your own doom. 
Which surely I shall wreak upon your head 
When this last trick has failed and I have proved 
Zenobia's innocence. Think well, I say, 
Before you let me open it. Think well. 
For were j^ou sure of your own evil fate 
As I am that Zenobia is safe 
In her own chamber, you would leap away 
Before a finger touched the spring as though 
Ten thousand serpents hid within its coil. 
While you have time, then, save yourself. 

Fit. Open! 

Grif. It were a pity for so good a man 
To die unshriven. 

Fil. Go, open the door. 

I swear I speak Heaven's truth, or Hell's, but still 
It is the truth. If I have lied, there's no 
Harm done at last except to me. 
If not, here's God's own chance to fathom her — 
Yourself concealed behind the curtain there. 

Grif. I go. But mark, your life shall be the price 
When this insinuation is proved false. 

[Grifonetto pulls aside arras, touches spring, and 
opens secret door on a crack under the direction of 
FiLippo, who then stands close behind him. — 
They wait in silence for a moment, when Grifonet- 
to starts violently and is on the point of rushing 
through the door. But Filippo covers Grifonet- 
To's mouth ivith his hand and drags him back. 

Grif. 'Tis she! Ah, God! If only I were armed to-night, 
The day had never dawned for them again — 
Nor shall it yet. See if the way is clear, 
Filippo. Quick; that I may reach my sword 
And kill before my soul breaks with its rage 1 
Zenobia — Marcantonio's paramour ! 
I would have sworn by Christ upon His cross. 



34 THE BAGLIONI 



Filippo, that there never was a wife 

More pure ! Zenobia Sf orza ! Whj' ; her name 

Itself has come to be a synonym 

For virtue. All of Umbria rings forth 

The praise of this flower of faithfulness! 

And now the crystal mirror of her mind 

Is cracked in fragments, all reflecting back 

My love in rainbow infamies. Now, now, 

I know that Hell is here in Italy ! 

Come ! I shall slake my thirsty wrath in blood, 

The only drink that quenches treachery ! 

[Seizes Filippo's ha7id and starts towards the door. 
Filippo holds him back. 

Fil. Nay, j^ou are mad! Black rage has sullied up 
The clear streams of your thought. Wait ! Never yet 
Has deed done in the heat of wrath struck home 
Like cold, malignant vengeance. 

Grif. Thy hands off! 

Or else I brain thee with my fists. 

Fil. Madman ! 

What would you do? To slay Zenobia 
And Marcantonio first, and perish then, 
Yourself within an hour? The bravi make 
Short work of fools. 

Grif. I care not, let me go! 

The pillars of my uni\-erse have gone. 
I would drain to the dregs my brimming cup 
Of A'engeance, and then die. 

Fil. Drain it thou shalt 1 

And such a mighty beaker full of wrath 
As never since the days of ancient Rome 
Has hung unpoured above the heads 
Of unsuspecting victims ! 

Grif. What mean you? 

Is not my itching sword-blade long enough? 

Fil Aye, but listen, while I unfold my plan. 
To your brief stroke it is as thunderclap 
To music. 

Grif. Marcantonio will have gone ! 



THE BAGLIONI 35 



Fil. Nay, let him go It matters naught. The net 
Is woven — if you but consent — has caught 
Them fast already. 

Grif. Anj^thing, by Heaven, 

For vengeance ! So fling honour to the winds ! 
Affection, chivalry, blood-kinship, pride. 
Humanity. Strangle them all, still-born 
Abortions ! Away life, and call grim hate 
To WTap me in her horrid arms. — Your plan ! 

Fil. Cool thyself, Grifonetto. Let thy hate 
Freeze up this frenzy with her icy wit, 
And listen to me with intelligence. 

Grif. Proceed, I wait! 

Fil. This, then's, the plan — You know 

How all the Baglioni are at hand. 
Assembled for the celebration feasts 
Of our Astorre's marriage. You know 
How brave they are, and how they scorn at night 
To guard themselves with waiting men-at-arms, 
As other nobles do, preferring much 
To trust to their own skill and mighty name. 
Thus holding strength and valorous repute 
A substitute for prudence and the pikes 
Of hirelings. 

Grif. Aye, we are brave — cursed brood 

Of lustful wolves! But what of that? 

Fil. Their pride 

Shall be their ruin! In the night, we four, 
Carlo, Jeronimo, yourself, and I, 
Armed to the teeth and followed by our men. 
Like stealthy lions penetrate the dens 
Of these same wolves, and, when the sun shines forth 
Again, your vengeance has been done. A king 
Of beasts inhabits where the ravening wolves 
Snarled yesterday. One ruler stands alone 
To guide the city's new-born destinies, 
And once again Perugia is free ! 
For me, ambition; freedom for the town; 
For thee, the bloodiest vengeance in the world I 



36 THE BAGLTONI 

A trinity of deeds! 

Grif. (bitterly). I could admire 
Thy sophistry, FiUppo, were my heart 
Not bursting with the strain of losing all 
I held most intimate. But, false or not, 
Thy words are oil upon my wounds. Wlio saj-^s 
That Grifonetto has turned traitor too? 
And yet 'tis true, as there's a hell for thee, 
Filippo. Grifonetto, cynosure 
Of all the looks in wide-eyed Umbria! 

Fil. Not traitor. Liberator ! Avenger ! 

Grif. Nay, decorate the appellation of 't 
As you may wish, the deed remains. But more! 

Fil. The signal for the rush shall be the fall 
Of a great stone within the inner court 
Of Guide's palace. Each one, with our braves. 
Shall then speed to our several tasks of love. 
The rest is eas}^ 

Grif. Would my heavy heart 

Could shatter on the stone and expiate 
This guilt and grief for all ! No other sign 
Would then be needed for this treachery. 

Fil. Till then, no word, no look, to give a clue 
To your intention. For the nonce j^ou are 
Comedian in the great tragedy. 
Smile, jest, feign all outrageous merriment, 
And eat your heart in silence till the time 
When vengeance, striding with o'ertaking steps, 
Shall strike in one fell blow our enemies. 

Grif. So shall it be. Doomed are the Baglioni, all ! 
Replete with lust and feasting they dance down 
Toward the grave ! Leave me, Filippo. Go ! 
I hate the truth and thee! 

[Grifonetto sinks into a chair. 

Fil. I go at once. 

[Exit Filippo. — Pause. 

Grif. {rising suddenly). Now has the current of this infamy 
Swept from my soul all vestige of restraint 
And borne me helpless on its tossing waves 



THE BAG LION I 37 



Of passion. Grifonetto is not here, 

But some new hell-born fun^, bellowing 

His curses to an unknown self. Here stands 

A stranger in this once familiar form, 

Whose poisoned blood now throbs its maddened rush 

Of hate incarnate through my veins. Hail then, 

Mysterious Avenger! Steel the nerves; 

Grip firm the heart ; instill the iron force 

Of thy great purpose through each liinb. Turn out 

All pity, honour, love, and bid them go 

A-shrieking through the streets until they find 

A domicile in foolish souls still graced 

AVith some humanity Come, Vengeance, come ! 

And fold me in thy sable wings. Enwrap 

My soul with l^loody kisses, so I walk 

Upon mj' errand shod with destiny ; 

Swift and ine^•itable as the wind, 

And cruel as the Fates. Come, Vengeance, come ! 

Thou art my onlj^ mistress, my desire 

Flames up to thee. With every breath I crave 

Thy fierce embrace ! Knit thy ferocity 

Into my soul, until I live revenge — 

Sleep, wake, dream, plot a limitless revenge; 

And stride at last to that night consummate, 

Incarnate vengeance, brandishing aloft 

The sword of Death himself, the Infinite 

Avenger ! 

[Long paufie. 
Ah, Zenobia! 

[Grifonetto sinks, sobbing violently, into the chair 
covering his face with his hands. 

CURTAIN. 



38 THE BAGLIONI 



ACT III. 

Scene. The anteroom of Marcantonio's sleeping-chamber in 
Atalanta's palace. — A week afterwards. — Late at night. — Open 
casement discloses neighbouring roofs and towers in the moonlight. — 
To the left, fireplace and door. — One torch only gives light, except 
candles in heavy candelabra on table in centre of room. — Seated 
around the table are gathered, playing cards and drinking, Mar- 
CANTONio, Carlo, Simonetto, a7id Filippo. 

Sim. Thou playest for high stakes ! 

Marc. They're none too high 

For me to risk upon a card or die. 

Car. Take heed, Marcantonio, for God's dice — ■ 

Marc. Nay, for that, most men's dice are loaded too. 
So what's the odds? 

Sim. By Bacchus! There it goes — 

My last gold crown. Some honest citizen 
Must bleed his money-bags to recompense 
Poor Simonetto for this night. 

Car. Alas ! 

My purse is empty as my head is full. 
More of your sack to drown my poverty I [Drinks. 

Marc. Come, leave the game, you revellers, since chance 
Not freely smiles upon the young for once. 

Sim. Aye, let's off! Friend Filippo here is wise 
And cautious. Let him battle out until 
The candles pale in sunshine; I'm for bed! 

Fit. Good ! With Marcantonio I will play 
Alone — till doomsday if he likes. 

Marc. Too long, 

Filippo. I'd play high and short. 

Fil. To work! 

Marc. I double! 

Fil. And again! 

Marc. Four times as much! 

Fil. And every crown that I can beg or steal 
Within the year 1 

Car. Filippo, by the gods, 



THE BAGLIONI 39 



Such play is madness ! 

Sim. This is merry sport; 

Say naught, mj' Carlo. 

Marc. All my lands! 

Fil. By Heaven ! 

I have none. But I have my honour still. 
Here goes it, represented by this crown. 
Once win it, thou canst sell me as a slave ! 

Marc. Thy honour? Pah! It is not worth the crown 
Which symbolizes it. 

Fil. The honour, then, 

Of the most beautiful of womankind! 

Marc. An empty boast! 

Car. Come, drag him off to bed; 

This is too much! 

Sim. Come out, Filippo, out. 

The wine dances too hot in your thin veins! [Seizes Filippo. 

Fil. Unhand me. I speak truth. 

Marc. Whose honour, then, 

Hast thou in hand? 

Fil. Whose do you think, my friend? 

Nay, j'ou should know ! 

Marc. Away! He's drunk! 

Car. Too true. 

Marc. Then take him off. I would not play with fools 
Or drunken men. 

[Carlo and Simonetto seize him. 

Fil. Aye, carry me away! 

For all that I shall win my stakes, for, mark 
You well, my Marcantonio, they're high 
As life, unsatisfied as death, and hard 
To pay up as to obviate the tomb ! 

[Exeunt Carlo and Simonetto dragging Filippo. 
Sounds of expostidations, laughter, and. footsteps 
' die away down stairway which leads to Marcan- 
TONio's anteroom door. 

Marc. I like not that Filippo, nor his wit — 

[Slowly blowing out candles. 
'Tis much too bitter for my taste. Besides, 



40 THE BAGLIONl 



I was a fool to wager with him so. 
He's naught but a poor bastard with his boasts 
Of womans' honour. [Going to bedroom door. 

Maraglia! Sleepest thou? [Listens. 

He sleeps. So are the humble recompensed. 
Sleep in his stronghold unassailable 
But mocks at me. — He sleeps the fortunate 
And gentle rest of young insouciance; 
While every passion in the universe 
Seems to have chosen my veins for battle-ground. 
Love, anger, longing, fear; and now that last, 
The worst of all — Suspicion ! Some one knocks ! 

[Sound of light knocking. He goes to the door and 
opens it. 
Who's there? Zenobia! This is madness. 
Enter Zenobia. 

Zen. Sh! 

Not so loud with my name ! 

Marc. Where is he, then. 

Your husband, Grifonetto? 

Zen. 1 left him 

Asleep. I poured into his drinking-cup 
A quieting dravxght which Carlo brought me once 
From a physician in Sienna. Nay ! 
Be not alarmed. I shook him ere I went. 
Naught else but thunder could disturb him now. 

Marc. Pray then that storms ■nail keep away! 

Zen. And pray as well, no other storms of human wrath 
May grow, and, gendered in suspicion, break 
Upon our heads. 

Marc. He still suspects? 

Zen. God knows! 

But ever since that night when he did drop 
Down at my feet the shivering globe, my soul 
Has trembled like the breaking crystal cup. 
Ah, Marcantonio ! My whole life's like 
A dancer's on the frailest single cord 
Stretched taut across the grave ! 

Marc. Thou'rt overwrought ! 



THE BAGLIONI 41 



Come, sit here where the gentle blowing air 

Will smooth thy brow with its invisible 

And cooling touch. Look forth. The city sleeps 

Within the night so silently; as though 

The stars, all wearied with the watching o'er 

Men's immemorial destinies, had poured 

Their heavenly sleeping-draught upon the earth. 

To quiet human deeds and rest a while ! 

Zen. Tell me more, — more Antonio, for thy voice 
Falls soothing on the throbbing sounds that ring 
Forever in my tired brain alarms 
And infamies. For when I am away 
From thee, and Grifonetto looks so hard 
With those sad eyes of his, my heart grows still. 
They seem to question me — his eyes. 
Sometimes he gazes at me suddenly. 
And then looks swift away. I catch a gleam 
Sometimes, of subtle anger fluttering 
Jjike summer lightning, in his scrutiny. 

Marc. It is impossible that he should know! 

Zen. Yet ever since that day, a week gone by, 
An indefinable suspicion grows 
Upon me. 

Marc. Yet you've lulled his jealousy. 
Nor have I seen you till to-night. What then 
Can he have seen? 

Zen. And yet — 'Tis like the mist 

Down on the plains. It comes all unperceived. 
And suddenly it wraps one shivering 
Witliin its icy arms. Nor can I drive 
Away the haunting thought that over us 
There hang invisible grim threatenings. 
To-night I've come to warn you. Flee, flee, flee, 
Antonio, for your sake and mine! Promise! 
Yes, promise me that you will go to-morrow. 

Marc. I promise. 

Zen. God be praised! 

Marc. Then there are left 

But these so few sweet passing hours of love 



43 THE BAGLIONI 



To pinnacle our happiness upon? 

Zen. Yes ; let us drink them to the very last, 
These moments; let me feel once more the fire 
Of thy dear lips, before the insatiable 
Swift future overwhelms us both. The last! 
I am afraid to-night. Ah, Cruelty ! 
Why is the world so fierce to lovers? 

Marc. Nay, 

Why blame the world which toils thus endlessly? 

Zen. What then? Is there a God? 

Marc. Look forth and see ! 

\Vhen once the sleeping city wakes, each roof 
Will hide what shame, what want, what infamies, 
What agonies of death, crimes, sickness, woes — 

Zen. Where is he, then, the God of all this sin 
And misery? 

Marc. I know not. Yet indeed 

If ever he shines out beyond the veil, 
It must be in the beauty of a night 
Like this. 

Zen. At least that — love and beauty ! Hark, 
The bells! 

[They stand silently a moment, then continue speaking 
while bells chime on. 

Marc. Another day is born. 

Zen. So fast, 

Like moments down the eternal abyss 
Flutter our little lives! Gleams of feeling 
Upon the void of time! Zenobia called 
And Marcantonio. 

Marc. Aye, who can know 

How close the hour may be at hand when they 
Shall be but memories ! 

[The noise is heard of a heavy stone which falls 
crashing in the court without, followed by a long- 
drawn and shrill whistle. 

Zen. Ah, God! What's that? 

Marc. Stones crashing in the night? No wind could move 
Such masonry. The whistle afterwards! 



THE BAGLIONI 43 



Zen. What if it were a signal! 
Marc. It may be ! 

Quick, quick, back to your room ! [Going to door with torch. 

See the way's clear! 
If Grifonetto's gone, fly to Atalanta's chamber. One kiss. 
Zen. The last ! [Exit Zenobia. 

Marc. What can this be? It seems some hidden plan 
Too intricate e'en for Grifone's touch. 
Yet he's so subtle. The Baglioni's blood 
Meanders not for nothing in his veins ! 

[During this speech there is an increasing noise of 
tramping ivithout, and a growing sound of voices. 
What if it were a deeply cunning plan 
To wreak a double vengeance, after all? 
One more straw — that Filippo's boast to-night; 
Filippo has let slip the door, whose key 
His hand before had turned so carefully ! 
By Heaven, I see it now ! It stretches out 
Clear as the moonlight there ! To work, thou fool ! 
Zenobia' s warned. Now quick that I may scotch 
This budding flower of vengeance on the stalk. 
Before its poisonous petals fall upon 
The victims! 

[More noise of tramping. 
Hark! There's tramping. 'Tis too late. 
It is a signal. Ho ! Awake, awake, 

[Going to door and pounding violently. 
Maraglia! There's treachery afoot 
To-night! Quick, arm yourself! What's that again? 

Enter Maraglia. 
They're in the palace! Barricade the door — 
The only chance! 

[They hastily barricade the door loith heavy centre 
table, chairs, beds, etc. Many steps come rushing 
up the stairs, and those ivithout assail the door 
violently. 

Ah, here they come! 
Mar. My lord ! 

The door will not hold long. Quick on the roofs 



44 THE BAGLIONI 



While I stand off the rush ! 
Marc. Come with me too! 

Mar. Nay, this will give you time ! If possible, 
I'll f oUow you ; if not, I die content ! 

Marc. May God at last requite your bravery ! 

[Einbraces Maraglia hurriedly and escapes out of 
the open window to neighboring roof. Door finally 
breaks down, and in rush Grifonetto, Filippo, 
and following bravi with swords and torches, 
overwhelming and killing Maraglia, who at first 
has held them at bay with his pike. 
Fil. The dog's dead, where's the master? 
Grif. Search the room ! 

[Bravi and Filippo search both rooms, ramming all 
suspected places xvith their sivords. 
Fil. Where is he? 'Tis incredible he should 
Have fled! 

Grif. Suspicion must have crossed his mind; 

The door is barricaded ! 

Fil. Prod the squire. 

And promise him compassion if he tells. 

[Bravi poke Maraglia, ivho does not move. 
Useless! His mongrel breath has flown. 

Grif. (who has looked out of ivindow) . Too late ! 

Fil. Too late? [Goes to window. 

Grif. Yes, by almighty Heaven, too late! 

See! From the ledge there it is but an ell — 
A leap that any man could take. He's gone 
Upon the house-tops. {To men.) Quick, scour wide 
The city, block the gates, search garrets, roofs, 
Bins, chimneys, everywhere! A thousand crowns 
To him who brings me Marcantonio's head ! 

Enter messenger in hot haste. 
Mes. My lord! 

Grif. Here's news of him already! 

Fil. Good! 

Mes. My lord, your mother Atalanta's fled. 
Grif. Fled? 
Mes. And Zenobia. 



THE BAGLIONI 45 



Grif. Thou liest ! 

Fil. Ah! 

Grif. (To Brovi.) Kill this foul liar! 

Mes. By the Sacred Blood, 

I speak the truth ! The house is full of men — 
Thy followers. There's not a roon\ in all 
The palace where they could be hid. And more, 
A peasant from the western gate reports 
Them riding out a moment since, their steeds 
Fast foaming, like the wind, into the dark! 

Grif. Kill him! 

Fil. (To messenger.) Flee for your life! 

[Exit messenger. 

Grif. So they are gone! 

Gone, laughing in this desolate night! 
Zenobia and Marcantonio! 
The wife and paramour! In vain 
The slaughter of the others. All in vain 
The treachery, the careful plots, the days 
Of treasured misery ! Cursed be the night 
That hides them in its gloomy veil ! Cursed, stars 
That light their path! Cursed, fathers that begot. 
Mothers that bore them! Cursed, the breasts that nursed 
Their infancy, and cursed be great God 
Upon His highest throne for making them! 
Now is that fate unbearable fulfilled 
Which from its earliest hours has brooded o'er 
Our luckless race. Now have its greedy claws 
Snatched from my burning hands their vengeance ! Now 
Triumphant bare licentiousness has won. 
To flaunt in crimson robes of victory ! 
Then laugh, high God; laugh, men and devils all; 
Laugh, Grifonetto, for the curse has fallen! 



CURTAIN. 



46 THE BAGLIONI 



ACT IV. 

Scene. The Piazza, as in Act I. — Late afternoon of the next 
day. — Sun slowly sets as Act proceeds, colouring the sky when 
curtain falls. 

As curtain rises, small groups of citizens are seen discussing 
with horror and eagerness the events of the preceding night. 

1st Cil. This is a sad ending for the wedding feasts. 

2d Cit. A bloody one indeed ! 

1st Cit. Aye; was ever a city so drenched in gore? 

3d! Cit. Mark ye, we'll pay for this. First nobles' blood 
(would there were more of it !) , then the innocent townsf oiks' . 

4th Cit. But this is the most horrible! Never in all my 
years of witnessing these feuds have I torn down, as just now, 
the festive banners to wipe up the streets. 

3d Cit. 'Tis the greatest pity, say I, that any of the brood are 
left to greet the sunlight. 

1st Cit. 'Twas a foul deed, but I would that Grifonetto 
had won his stroke. We should then, at least, have had but 
a single tyrant to reckon with. 

•id Cit. One or many, 'tis the same. Blood and oppression ! 

2d Cit. I knew that fiery comet which shone last month was 
not for nothing. 

1st Cit. And the rainbow ring about the moon a week ago! 

4th Cit. And the light before the Virgin at the corner of my 
house. It went out upon the calmest night I ever remember. 

3d Cit. Why did you not interpret these great auguries and 
make a timely visit out of danger? 

2d Cit. Scoff not; here come the priests. 

3d Cit. Aye, here they come, to pray when all is over! 
Enter procession with eucharist, preceded by acolyte ringing bell. 
— Priests muttering prayers, etc., etc., and exit by door of 
Duomo. — Crowd of citizens kneel and doff caps as procession 
passes. 

4th Cit. God knows this town has need of intercession for 
her sins! 

1st Cit. Amen, indeed, the stench of all this slaughter must 
appal the very saints themselves! 



THE BAGLIONI 47 



3d at. The saints must be well used to it, forsooth. Paint 
them another gonfalon for blood-money ! 

2d at. Out on him for a heretic ! 

[Citizens murmur angrily. 

Sd at. Here's another; ask him for his opinions ! 

Enter Perugino walking sadly, with his head boived in thought. 

1st at. Greetings, Master Vanucci. 

Per. (starting from his reverie). This is horrible! Guido, 
Simonetto, all slain in a night; and Astorre in the arms of his 
young bride ! Such stupendous treachery ! 

2d at. Old Guido, they say, died with the words, " Now my 
time is come," holding back his face that he might be spared 
the sight of his own massacre ! 

1st at. And Astorre crying, "Unhappy Astorre, ying like a 
poltroon!" 

Per. (half to himself). 

Where then are all the loving gentle saints 
With whose serene embodiment my brain 
Has striven so often? Now forever more 
Their faces must be turned away in pain. 
The chattering priests — new banners for the church, 
More altar-pieces, candles, sorrow, prayers! 
As if the magic hand of Art herself, 
Nay, though her brush were dipped in human tears, 
And painted in our hearts' blood, could wipe out 
The burning stain of such great infamy! 
Enter RAFFAiiLLO. 
Ah, Raffaello ! I feared in this night 
Of riot and treachery some harm had come 
To thee. 

72a/. Nay, master, all the students kept 
Close to their quarters when they heard the ci'ies, 
The tramp of armed men, and caught the flare 
Of torches gleaming in the streets below. 

Per. But men say Marcantonio made escape 
To some poor scholar's chamber? 

Raf. It is true, 

To Sandros' from Orvietto, where he stayed 
Until the darkness just before the dawn, 



48 THE BAGLIONI 



When, clad in a rough student's gown, he fled 
The city gates! 

Per. And all the rest were slain? 

Raf. No, some escaped, but few. 

Per. Those are enough 

With Marcantonio, to return and wreak 
Swift retribution on the murderers. 

Raf. Perhaps. But from my chamber I can see [Excitedly. 
The great Baglioni palaces. Last night. 
Being wakeful, I leaned on my casement sill 
To watch the moonlight far down on the plain. 
A ray broke from the passing clouds. It seemed 
A shaft from heaven, it was so beautiful. 
And, as I looked, I pictured angels there, 
The Holy Mother, and a gathered host 
Of saints adoring — so I gazed for long ; 
When suddenly a crash split the still air, 
Tearing my reverie. Then muffled shouts 
Behind the palace walls, lights glinting out 
From palace windows! All the night I watched 
Until the dawn, when, thrown down on the streets, 
I saw the naked corpses of the slain. 
Ah! They were like the gods of ancient Greece, 
Those poor stripped bodies, heroes of old time, 
Or murdered patriots of mighty Rome. 
Unsepultured they lay there on the stones 
While we stood gazing, silent, wondering, 
Upon such proud and splendid forms, naked. 
Cast forth upon the roadway, yet all clad 
In beauty and the Majesty of Death! 

1st Cit. {elbowing his way through crowd, who have been listen- 
ing to Raffaello). Here come the three conspirators! 

4th Cit. Then let's be off. No good will arise if we're found 
talking here. 

3d Cit. Aye, we'll be wanted soon enough for penance, but 
never for peace. 

2d Cit. Disperse, friends, till we see^who be the next lords 
of the town, 

[Exeunt citizens slowly, still in small groups, talking 
together excitedly. 



THE BAGLIONI 49 



Raf. Too much prudence. I would stay and scorn 
Them. 

Per. No! Too much 5routh! Know, Raffaello, that 
Art's province is to feel, observe, express. 

But not to act. [Exit Perugino and Raffaello. 

E titer Grifonetto and Filippo. 

Fil. The plan has failed 

Grif. (with gray voice) . I know! 

Didst see, Filippo, how those here just now 
Fled from our slow approach? 'Twas horror! 

Fil. Fah! 

A group of gossiping traders. 

Grif. As you like ! 

/ say their speech was low and ominous, 
Their looks mute curses. 

Fil. Come! Pluck up thy heart; 

Has Grifonetto turned a coward? 

Grif. Nay, 

Were it but yesterday I would have pricked 
That lie between your teeth. To-day am I 
Undone. I have enough of blood. 

Fil. Mark me. 

There'll be much more, and that your own and mine, 
If you do not arouse yourself at last 
To put the flying leagues between your foes 
And you. Think you they'll not return, the wolves, 
To suck their vengeance from us all? 

Grif. May be! 

Fil. My soul! Was ever such a man? Awake, 
Grif one, wake! The hounds are on your track! 
Soon \\dll their baying ring loud in your ears. 
Come, hence, before it is too late ! 

Grif. 'Tis over! 

The play is done. Is great God never tired 
Of seeing the self -same tragedy? 

Ftl. (taking hold of him). Hark thee, 

My Grifonetto. This last play's not done. 
The first stroke fails, 'tis true, or half succeeds 
At most. What then? The stroke's half made, at least. 



50 THE BAGLIONI 



Now for the rest of it. First, from the town; 
So, that when the Baglioni come to find 
Revenge, their quarry's given them the shp. 
Next, gather from the comitry side our men. 
All we can find; pose as the city's friends, 
Deliverers from the tyrants' toils ; and then, 
Back from the plains to storm the town again. 
The burghers will be friendly; gates will swing 
Back from their hinges, open wide to those 
Who'll guard the city's ancient freedom. Then 
Fugitives as conquerors shall return. 
There's the play's ending. Take it. It is thine! 

Grif. What a smooth tongue! Thou shouldst have been a 
judge, 
Filippo, or a barrister to plead 
For criminals, as thou art doing now. 
But this is not a case for words. Black deeds, 
And blacker retribution faces us. 
Ah, God! What vast atonement can wipe out 
That dark stain of my mother's parting curse? 
You know how she did curse me, Filippo? 

[Shaking his head sorrowfully . 
In vain I've sought her at Landona, now 
This very day again. Naught but dark curses, 
Great curses on my head and on her womb 
That bore me. Curses for my treason, then 
More for my fratricide. Let death come now, 
I wait! 

Fil, Nay, but succeed yet, after all. 
She will remove her curse then for the crown 
Of victory, as many a mother's done 
Before. 

Grif. No victories can blot a curse 
Like this from off my brow. 'Tis registered 
In heaven by Azrael. His wings alone 
Can brush aside the stain, 

Fil. You are stark mad, 

Grif one, irresponsible, and full 
Of rhapsodies of dying! See, the sun 



THE BAGLIONI 51 



Deflects not his bright rays away from us; 
Food nourishes: wine flows forth for our thirst; 
Our shadows are not bloody. 

Grif. Such as thou, 

FiHppo, see not shadows of the soul. 
How couldst thou? On this very spot thou first 
Tempted my honour. Then I scorned thee, then 
I threw back thy insinuating words 
Into th}' traitor's face. 

Fil. Say what you will, 

But did I turn Zenobia false? Who cried 
So loud for vengeance then? 

Grif. Now do I know 

Too late that vengeance is for God. 

Fil. Too late? 

'Tis not too late I beg you chase away 
These lurid, night-born fancies, brooding thoughts 
Which haunt thy weary brain. Off to the plains! 
Feel once again thy steed rush under thee; 
Once more the bravi shouting close behind; 
The cool air of the marshes fanning thee ! 
Then will swift action drive aside these mists 
Of melancholy. 

Grif. (solemnly). When the stars are cold, 
Filippo, and when night has changed each shape 
Familiar so that all the world is strange — 
When best-known faces show through leering masks. 
And oft-trod stones ring foreign echoes back 
To one's own unacquainted steps; when blood 
Drips from one's very thoughts to hang a veil 
Of gore before the straining vision. 
And God's own blessed svm drifts flaming red 
Behind the hills. — Who then art thou to speak 
So light of brushing gruesome fancies by? 
I say if thou couldst feel the load of guilt 
That staggers on thy back and see thyself 
As real — a crime-drenched hunchback crouching there ! 

Fil. The man is mad. Come, Grifonetto, see, 
I do beseech you turn away these thoughts. 



52 " THE BAGLIONI 



Weigh out the matter thus: on one side death, 

Inevitable, and what then is gained? 

Upon the other all that unknown chance 

Which makes life rich in possibilities. 

The chance to -win j^et in this game of war, 

The chance to still remorse with noble acts. 

To buy redemption for the past with love 

Of this your suffering city, and the chance 

To so heap up good deeds that they shall shame 

At last the very niched saints themselves. 

Throw this great opportunit}^ awaj^. 

Then you are lost, and after damned as well. 

Fly these foul fancies, live, and you have yet 

To cheat the Fates and save your soul. Nay, more: 

'Twere flj'ing in the face of Heaven itself 

To thus cast off your own redemption! 

Grif. No. I care not to live. I would not skulk 
From town to town in timid banishment 
A cursed soul, a cuckold, murderer. 
Laughed at, despised, and pointed at in shame. 
I will not live. For there are times indeed 
When to breathe in the air and gaze upon 
The light is the most damned crime of all. 

Fil. Then die you must. Who is this running here? 
Enter Carlo in haste. 

Car. The watchman at the towers sees the flash 
Of weapons moving up the hill. They come ! 

Fil, Where is Jeronimo? 

Car. He's here. 

Enter Jeronimo, hastily buckling on his sword. 

Fil. To horse! 

We're just in time. Soon 'twill be dark. We're safe 

Jer. on with us! 

Fil. And this mad fool here! 

Car, What's that? 

Fil. He would atone, staj^, die, God knows what all! 

Jer. Then let him stay. 

Car. My life's not dice for fools 

To juggle with. 



THE BAGLIONI 53 

Fil. Haste, Grifonetto! 

Car. Off! 

Fil. Come; steeds wait at the hill's foot. All is planned! 
Come! 

Grif. Cowards ! Traitors ! Go, save your precious skins 
For vultures to feed on another time. 

Fil. The man is raving! 

Car. He'd but hinder us. 

Grif. Go, go! My blood, not yours! It would pollute 
The sacrifice! 

Fil. Christ pity him! 

Jer. Away ! 

Fil. 0& with him, then, by force, for he is mad; 
I love him yet and would not leave him to die. 

Car. Then haste. 

[Carlo, Filippo, and Jeronimo attevipt to seize 
Grifonetto and force him away with them, hut 
Grifonetto casts them off after a brief struggle, 
then lays his hand on his sword. 

Grif. What, do you love me so, good cousins, 
That 3'ou would join me on that vinknown road 
Which starts here at our feet, but whose dim end 
No man may ever see? You would not, then? 
Still is the journey easy. No thought given 
To gold or arms, for no one need have fear 
Of robbers by the way. And though in truth 
I never yet saw one who has returned, 
Men say the path lies smooth, and gentlest dreams 
Beguile the traveller. 

Fil. Poor soul! 

Car. Off, off! 

While we delay to hear this madman prate 
The minutes rush along. 

Jer. We'll be too late. 

Fil. Farewell, Grif one ! You have chosen your part. 
Whether 'tis best I know not after all! 

[Exit Jeronimo, Carlo, and Filippo, leaving 
Grifonetto alone, wrapped in thought. 



54 THE BAGLIONI 



Grif. (long pause). 

Gone to the night of hell which nurtured them ! 

[Pause. Sound of retreating hurried steps. Trum- 
pets in extreme distance. Grifonetto turns and 
stretches out his arms in supplication: 
Ah, my Zenobia! Was ever time 
Indeed when thy soft arms enfolded me? 
When I awaked to thy caress, when love 
Lit all my nights and days? Or was it then 
A passing fantasy, an empty wraith 
Of my poor doting brain? Zenobia! 
Is there no smile for me, thy lover here? 
No greetings for such care ineffable? 
No touch of thy dear hand, no look, no word? 
Zenobia! 'Tis I who call thee, I, 
Thy lover Grifonetto! 

[Trumpets sound in distance. Grifonetto lets his 
outstretched arms fall helplessly to his side and 
bows his head. — Trumpets sound again a little 
nearer. More trumpets, nearer. 
The Baglioni! Marcantonio! All! 
There sound the brazen throats of Death! They come! 

[Passing hand over his brow as if to wipe out a stain. 
Ah, God ! If I could tear this mother's curse 
Once from my brow. It presses there like iron! 
Then would I die as fits my chivalry. 
Fall fighting to the last, defying still 

My conquerors ! Nay, by the Mass, I'll fight [Draws sword. 

For fighting's sake, since all my honour's gone ! 

[More trumpets, much nearer. 
Fight for the lust of blood, fight for a sport, 
Fight for a moment's hfe till life is done ! 

[Pause. Gazes at sword hopelessly. 
No! 'Tis dishonoured too, even my sword. 
Stained with the blood of my own race, befouled 
With treachery! Go! No more lives shall fall; 

[Flings away his sword. 
Beneath thy strokes enough have died. 

Enter Marcantonio and armed Bravi. 



THE BAGLIONI 55 



Marc, (in full armour, putting sword to Grifonetto's throat). 

Art thou 
Here, Grifonetto? 

Grif. I am here, Marcantonio, 

Come to atone at last for all thy sins 
And mine! 

Marc, (lowering his sword) . 

Go with God's peace; I will not slay, 
Nor plunge my hand in mine own blood, as thou 
Hast done in thine! 

[As jVIarcantonio turns away, Bravi surround 
Grifonetto and hew him down. The deed is 
done, however, in such a way as to conceal Grif- 
onetto from the audience while he is being killed. 
Marcantonio walks slowly to the doorstep of 
Duomo where he pauses and looks back as Bravi 
draw aside showing Grifonetto's corpse stretched 
in full view. 
Marc. " Spoil not his body. All your work is done ! " 

[Chant (without organ) from Duomo as Marcan- 
tonio enters doorway, crossing himself. 



CURTAIN. 

L.ofC. 



FEB & 1903 



FEB 4 1903 



